It’s the first day of spring!
“God’s in His Heaven–/ All’s right with the world.” –Robert Browning
And now what says springtime more than pink tulips?
There is a Winter Weather Advisory out for the Minneapolis-St Paul metro area this afternoon and evening, and we are supposed to get around 4+ inches of snow, although how much we will actually get is anybody’s guess, as the forecasters haven’t gotten it right once yet this winter. This has proved another wimpy winter by Minnesota standards, especially for those of us who were children in the 1970s and ’80s. Still, although I’m sure there are snowboarders and skiers who are excited for snow, and I must admit that snow is prettier than our current brown and drab color scheme, I am ready for spring. Sunshine, blue skies, and flowers, please: tulips, hyacinths, lilacs and peonies…If you know how I feel, here are some tulip pics to keep you going until the real thing starts growing outside.
“The deep roots never doubt that spring will come.” Marty Rubin
Goodbye May…you’ve been simply lovely, despite the twin evils of fibromyalgia and depression. Tulips, crabapple blossoms, lilacs, lilies of the valley, and peonies galore. Of course Catholics celebrate May as Mary’s month, and for me, May has always been my mom’s month, bittersweet now that she’s gone, since her birthday and Mother’s Day fall so close together. So goodbye to May…and hello June! I’m looking forward to summer flowers (my salvias and lupines are blooming already) and hopefully a photography trip up to the North Shore (of Lake Superior, for all of you non-Minnesotans out there).
What was your favorite part of May?
Thank goodness, it’s finally stopped raining here in Minneapolis and although it’s still a wee bit chilly, the sky is blue, the sun is out, my perennials are coming up, and everywhere I look it’s green, green, green! I may be fighting a migraine and a fibro flare–but today spring wins the contest for my soul.
If people did not love one another, I really don’t see what use there would be in having any spring.
Victor Hugo, Les Miserables